I know I don't have full-blown OCD....at least not that's officially diagnosed, anyway, LOL. However, moving (especially the moving IN part) really does bring out my obsessive tendencies, and while I'm trying hard not to drive my family nuts, this is one week when I'm not going to apologize for wanting things "just so" and not settling for half-done. Normally, (even my mom would attest to this, much to her horror) I will bend to lesser standards with my housekeeping and organizing to placate the rest of the family and keep things sane, but this week (as with last week and the week before that), I'm going to insist that things be done RIGHT--and by right, I mean, of course, MY WAY!
You know how the saying goes that a man's home is his castle? I personally think that's a bit off. There's another lesser-known saying among military families that even though the hubby may be the commander, it's his wife who's the first sergeant, and it's the mom who hands out the orders! Pete's name may be first on the change of address card, the "head of household" for tax purposes, and even spiritually...but he doesn't have a CLUE how to organize (or clean) a house. Just yesterday, we spent several hours doing something Pete didn't even think needed to be done. We cleaned a perfectly "clean" house. WHY?? Well, the wax buildup on the linoleum was about to drive me batty, and the last thing I could imagine doing was putting all my "stuff" in a house that wasn't clean when we started. So out came the ammonia and up came probably five years of wax and cigarette smoke from the prior occupants. YUCK! Kelsey and Pete just shook their heads at me, but you know what? That kitchen floor sparkles now, and there is not a spot on it that grabs my attention--a very good thing, in my book!
We were sitting at lunch today with three couples from church talking about moving around, having unpacked boxes (HORRORS!!!) living in the house for years, and the whole moving-in hassle. It appears I have become a bit of a joke to Pete--at least, my unpacking/obsessing over the moving-in aspect of our military transfers have. I'll admit it, I HAVE TO get things unpacked as soon as the moving truck has pulled away from the house. It's not in me to let boxes sit all over the house unpacked for weeks on end. Pete doesn't see them after a while. He forgets they're there, even if he's got to climb over them to get to something. Me? NO WAY. Cardboard boxes offend my sensibilities, quite frankly. They are ugly and they represent something that is not yet finished. We have so little time at the places we're normally stationed, if I let things sit in the house, we'd barely get moved in before we had to get things packed up again! So step aside and just stay out of the way, there's WORK to do!
I'm 32 weeks pregnant today. I'll probably get a LOT less done this time around than I usually do the day our household goods are delivered. But at the end of the day, I know I will be able to sleep on my OWN bed, on my own clean sheets, in my own bedroom, with all the children sleeping in their own beds on their own clean sheets surrounded by put-away clothing and toys that are put away, and I can plop my fatigued fanny down on my own couches to rest in between boxes! It's my "thing". I'll gladly own it!